


venus as a boy

by fromlaurelgroves



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Anal Sex, Crossdressing, Cunnilingus, Forced Feminization, Multi, Oral Sex, Pegging, Threesome - F/F/M, palamedes sextus' magical girl transformation sequence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29157651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromlaurelgroves/pseuds/fromlaurelgroves
Summary: “Just like a princess,” says Dulcie with satisfaction, holding the dress up against him.And Camilla says, “That’s the one.”
Relationships: Camilla Hect/Dulcinea Septimus/Palamedes Sextus
Comments: 24
Kudos: 31





	venus as a boy

Palamedes can’t believe he agreed to this.

It’s not something he’s ever thought about before, really and truly. It’s outside the scope of his experience, his interest, and his comfort zone. It’s ridiculous.

And yet it also makes perfect sense. When Dulcie first told him about this fantasy, he wasn’t sure, but it would be completely unprecedented for him to say no to her. And then when Camilla weighed in, seconding the suggestion--of course he said yes.

They put up with a lot from him, both of them. They listen to his ramblings and suffer his worries and find his lost glasses and convince him to eat. And most inexplicably they _love_ him, despite the fact that he’s less of a boyfriend and more of an academic database combined with a bag of elbows.

They do so much for him. He can do this for them.

“What do you think?” asks Dulcie, holding the dress up against him on its hanger. It’s a deep orchid satin with a V-neck, no sleeves. On a normal human woman, it would come to just above the knee. On Palamedes Sextus it hits mid-thigh. It looks like a hip-hugging dress, slits up each side.

“Not sure,” says Camilla, who is stretched out on the bed with a magazine. “Color suits him, but it looks a little tight. Not great access.”

“An excellent point. I think that’s a _no_ , then.” Dulcie tosses the dress on a chair and produces another from the garment bag she brought with her. “How about this one?”

The new dress is dark blue, with an extravagant tulle skirt that would be ankle-length even on Palamedes. It looks much roomier than the first one, but is lacking either straps or sleeves, so he’s not sure what would hold it up.

Camilla clicks her tongue. “Better, but don’t you think it’s a bit juvenile? He’s not going to prom.”

Dulcie giggles and elbows him in the ribs. “Ooh, I _wish_ we were going to prom. You don’t know how enthusiastically I’d let this young man deflower me in a motel room. I’m going to call this a maybe.”

Palamedes is still recovering from the motel room comment when she pulls out the third option. It is immediately, obviously, perfect. It’s seafoam green lace, mostly see-through except for the embroidered roses that cover where the breasts would go. The off-the-shoulder sleeves will provide a stunning and unobstructed view of his collarbones. But the real centerpiece is the skirt, made of overlapping frothy layers that look easy to move in, that will hide his skinny, hairy legs, that will make him feel--

“Just like a princess,” says Dulcie with satisfaction, holding the dress up against him.

And Camilla says, “That’s the one.”

It turns out there’s a lot that has to happen before he can put the dress on. First he has to sit very still while Dulcie paints his nails a creamy shell pink that she claims goes with the dress. Two coats of color and then a clear coat on top, her cool, delicate hands carefully working over each of his fingers. Her own nails are long and scarlet. “Now you must be very good,” she tells him, “and not mess them up while they dry, or else there will be Consequences.” Palamedes strongly suspects she wants him to mess them up so that she can reveal what the Consequences are, but he’s not going to break that easily. He sits obligingly motionless while his nails dry, even when the girls decide to use the time to make out shamelessly on the bed in front of him, Dulcie making hungry little coos into Camilla’s mouth, Camilla’s fingers gripping Dulcie’s jaw. Sure, maybe his cock is stirring a little, but when Dulcie returns to check on him his manicure is perfect.

Next comes the makeup. Cam, who never wears any, professes to be interested in this part and scoots to the edge of the bed to observe. Dulcie uses something fluffy and soft to pat some kind of powder onto his face, each touch as gentle as a kiss. She holds his jaw with one hand--her grip is surprisingly strong--and turns his head this way and that as she works. Palamedes is very aware of how warm his face is under whatever she’s putting on it. He’s getting more and more turned on, and shifts a little in his seat to try and hide it, but this earns him a hard flick to the skull. “No moving.”

He has to close his eyes for Dulcie to put makeup on them, so he can’t see what she looks like as she gently smears the shadow into his eyelids, as she paints on the delicate line of eyeliner. But her face is so close to his that he can feel her breath--coming a little faster than usual, he thinks. His certainly is. 

He’s allowed to open his eyes again for the mascara, so he can see Dulcie’s extremely focused look as she makes tiny, precise motions with the wand, carefully coating his eyelashes. She’s very good at this, he realizes. She must do this, or something like it, every day. How much time it must take her. How much practice it must have taken to arrive at this level of skill. He’s never seen her put her own makeup on--she always emerges fully finished, fully formed. 

A little blush is applied, and then it’s time for the lipstick. His heart is going very hard for some reason as Dulcie takes the lid from the tube, twists the bottom until the dark pink nub emerges. Her fingers dig into his jaw as she draws a careful line across his mouth. “Do this,” she says, and presses her lips together. He does it, and looks over her shoulder to where Camilla is watching, eyes very wide. She doesn’t look like she’s breathing at all.

“There,” Dulcie says, and closes the lipstick with a _snap_. She produces a hand mirror from her seemingly bottomless makeup bag. “Take a look at yourself, my love.”

Palamedes takes a look. He looks like a stranger, but it’s not bad. He even looks--

“Pretty,” he says, handing the mirror back. “You did a good job.”

Dulcie’s mouth is curving in a sharp, anticipatory smile. She cards her long nails through his hair, trailing them over his scalp. “I did,” she says. “You do look pretty. Now let’s get you even prettier.”

Palamedes is ordered to disrobe-- “ _everything_ off, please and thank you.” He’s grateful he wore a button-down today, as he would be worried about smearing the makeup if he had to pull anything over his head. Once the pants and underwear come off it’s obvious that he is hopelessly hard, but the girls don’t say anything about it so neither does he. He folds everything carefully, focusing on the creases to steady his hands, and sets the folded clothes down on the chair. Then he straightens to look at his two girlfriends, who are both eyeing him like a pair of lions surveying a particularly unrobust antelope. “Can I put the dress on now?”

“Nearly,” says Dulcie. “Patience, sweet boy. There’s a couple of undergarments first. Cam?”

Cam slides a drawer open and produces something Palamedes has never seen before. It seems to be mostly made of straps. 

“What on earth is that? Where did it come from?”

“Cam very kindly obtained that at my request prior to today’s activities,” says Dulcie. “I don’t wear them myself, but I thought it seemed appropriate. You can just step into that, it goes around your waist.”

Palamedes steps into it. The straps dangle down uselessly, and he’s not clear on what the purpose of them is until Dulcie hands him a pair of very soft stockings. “These next.”

At first he’s afraid that his feet--ugly and ungainly, much bigger than Dulcie’s--will tear the stockings, but he gets them on without incident. The silky slide of them against his skin feels better than he anticipated, and his breath hitches in his throat once they’re all the way on.

“ _Lovely_ ,” says Dulcie, as if she’s taking in a painting. “Just lovely. Cam, a hand with the straps, I think.”

Each of them fastens one leg of the stockings to the straps, connecting them to the belt encircling his bony hips. Dulcie does it with deliberate sensuality, stroking the inside of his thigh a little with the backs of her fingers and making him gasp. Camilla’s approach is more workmanlike, as if she was securing furniture to the roof of a car. They both ignore his erection completely, which somehow makes it a hundred times worse. 

But then it’s time. The moment they’ve been waiting for. He steps into the dress carefully, leaning a little on Camilla so he doesn’t overbalance. The frothy skirt mostly hides his arousal, but there’s still a little telltale tenting. Dulcie helps him get his arms through the sleeves, and Cam zips it up in the back. Then both of them step back to admire their handiwork.

“I considered heels,” says Dulcie, “but I don’t have any in your size, and even if I did I think it would kill my libido to watch you try to walk in them, so we are going without.” Palamedes thanks God for small mercies. “So I believe our work here is finished. Camilla, well done.”

“I hardly did anything,” says Cam. “You did it all.”

“Regardless of who did what,” says Palamedes, and finds that speaking is unexpectedly difficult because his mouth is so dry, “I appreciate your efforts with me, and I wonder if you might let me know what comes next.”

“Next?” asks Dulcie. “Well, we hadn’t made a clear plan for _next_...There’s several possibilities, all of them appealing. Cam, what do you think?”

Camilla is staring at him with a hard, hungry look. He’s seen it on her before, but rarely directed at him. It’s the way she looks at the _women_ she dates, he realizes--it’s the way she looks at Coronabeth. Like she wants to take him apart very carefully and slowly. _Fuck_ , he’s hard.

“I like the lipstick,” Cam is saying slowly. “He’s got a very nice mouth, and he’s good with it. I’d like his mouth on me, but I wouldn’t want to mess that lipstick up. After all--” she looks at Dulcie-- “you worked so hard.”

Dulcie takes two steps toward him, blue eyes glittering. She reaches up to take his jaw in her hand again, turns his face to look at her. She says, “Down, please,” and Palamedes sinks to his knees. 

Dulcie doesn’t release her grip on his face, even when he’s kneeling in front of her. With a sure motion, she drags one thumb across his mouth, smearing the lipstick all the way to his cheekbone. Camilla gasps. It takes Palamedes a lot of concentration not to come right there.

“There,” says Dulcie. “Now you don’t have to worry about ruining it.”

She turns him toward Camilla by the shoulders, taps his spine to urge him forward. He moves to her, still on his knees, the huge skirt of the dress puddling out around him like a seafoam birthday cake. Cam’s pulling off her shirt, her socks, her leggings. “Wait,” she says.

They wait. Camilla, naked now as the day she was born, goes to the chair where Palamedes put his folded clothes and retrieves the button-down shirt. It’s much too big on her, somehow dresslike and mannish at the same time. She leaves it unbuttoned, showing off the long expanse of her olive skin, her lean, hard thighs. She settles in on the edge of the bed, legs spread. Dulcie sighs with delight. “Now _that_ is perfect.”

Palamedes scoots forward, eager to be back in familiar territory. He’s long accustomed to the way Cam shudders when he swipes his tongue over her clit; the taste of her is almost reassuring, he’s tasted it so many times. Even Dulcie, who has climbed up on the bed next to Cam and is kissing her sweetly, palming her breasts under the big shirt; even that’s happened before. 

But it’s still different. Because he’s left a streak of lipstick on the inside of Cam’s thigh, because the layers of the dress rustle when he rocks forward into Cam’s center, because Cam, coming down from her sobbing climax, turns to Dulcie and says, “Doesn’t he look good down there?”

And Dulcie reaches out to stroke his hair again, and says, “Yes. He makes a very pretty girl.”

After that Dulcie exits the room with mysterious instructions to “get him ready for me, will you Cam darling,” leaving the two of them alone. Camilla lays down on the bed and pats the space next to her. When Palamedes has joined her, she tangles one of her hands with his, kisses his cheek. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” he says. She can hear how dry his mouth is, and immediately hands him the glass of water from the nightstand, which he swallows gratefully. “This is...very new. It’s a lot. But I’m having a nice time.”

“You’re sure? I know this wasn’t your idea. You can always back out if it’s too much.”

“No. No, it’s good. I want to keep going.”

She kisses him again. “Well, good. Dulcie’s going to fuck you in the ass when she comes back, does that sound all right?”

His hips buck a little, involuntarily, at the mere thought. “More than all right.” 

“Great. I’m meant to get you ready.”

He kisses her again, reveling in the steady, soothing presence of her, as familiar and sure as his own self. “I’m all yours.”

By the time Dulcie comes back they’ve worked up to three fingers, Palamedes hissing through his teeth as Cam presses into him over and over, her arm disappearing under the layers of pale green lace. Dulcie is wearing Cam’s strap-on, but not Cam’s harness, which is a straightforward gray elastic situation. The harness Dulcie’s wearing is much more _Dulcie_ , dark green lace roses climbing up the sides, little bows on the hips. “Good work,” she says approvingly when she sees what they’ve been up to. “Now don’t move, love, I want you on your back just like that. You’re much too pretty a sight to waste.”

Palamedes thinks he’s going to vibrate right out of the dress in anticipation. Dulcie leans over to kiss him, slipping her tongue into his mouth to draw out a moan; she trails her hands over his chest and he bucks when she brushes his nipples, so sensitive even through the embroidered roses. She rubs lube over the dildo, long careful strokes that make him ache for her hands on him. Then she settles in between his thighs and says, “Ready for me, darling?” and when he nods she pushes in without hesitation.

A long, ragged groan rips out of him as she sinks all the way to the base. Cam did a good job getting him ready and he’s completely open for her, taking her unbelievably deep, his whole body rocking with every thrust. Cam, for her part, just holds him, kissing the bare shoulder where the sleeve of the dress has slipped down, as Dulcie absolutely wrecks him. She snaps her hips into him with a core strength he didn’t know she had and his vision blurs a little, the pleasure pulling tight.

He was never going to last long. He’s been achingly hard for the better part of an hour. He’s felt enough sensations today for a whole myriad. The feeling of Dulcie filling him up is too much to bear, and he doesn’t think he can keep it together much longer. It’s Cam who sees the look on his face and says, “Dulcie,” and it’s Dulcie who presses her cock in just a little deeper and says, “Come for me, my sweet boy, my sweet girl. Come for me. Let go.”

And he does, spilling onto his thighs and belly, groaning with relief.

Camilla kisses his shoulder, his cheek, squeezing him hard with tenderness. Dulcie pulls out slowly. “That was _marvelous_ ,” she says. “You did so well. You don’t know what that did to me, the sight of you like that. Just beautiful.”

He feels relaxed, warm, hazy. He eats Dulcie out as if he’s sleepwalking, contentedly licking up into her folds as she rides his face, steadying herself on Camilla. After she finally comes, spasming against his mouth, she slides down happily on one side of him, head on his shoulder, arms around his lace-covered waist. For a moment it seems the three of them might fall asleep like that, until suddenly a terrible thought occurs to him.

“Dulcie,” he says sharply, and both girls look up in concern. “The dress, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking."

“What?”

“When I…” He gestures to his lap. The inside of the ruffly skirt is sticky where he came into it, rapidly stiffening as it dries. “It’s a mess. I’m so sorry. I’ll take it to the cleaners for you.”

Dulcie giggles and kisses his cheek. “Don’t worry about it, love. I never wear it anyway. Besides, I was thinking I could leave it with you two.”

“With us? But Camilla doesn’t wear things like this.”

“I’m not talking about Camilla,” says Dulcie patiently. “I’m talking about you. For next time.”

Next time, thinks Palamedes as he drifts off, sandwiched between the two most incredible women he knows. Yes, maybe there will be a next time.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Yes I did post three things in three days--this is what happens when I have two days off work because of a massive snowstorm. I am now going back into hibernation.
> 
> Also, I feel that this fic owes something to [this Tamsyn Muir fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/168218), which I enjoyed back in her Homestuck days!


End file.
